


A Queen and her Kinks

by Leatherandapplepies, Winchester_of_the_lord



Series: A Queen and her Kinks [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Queen and her Kinks, Alcohol, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Dancing, Dean Winchester Imagine, Dom/sub, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Handcuffs, POV Dean Winchester, SPN - Freeform, Sex, Smuff, Smut, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2019, Teasing, yeet! Mish and Lou write smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-13 02:30:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18023081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leatherandapplepies/pseuds/Leatherandapplepies, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_of_the_lord/pseuds/Winchester_of_the_lord
Summary: Dean and Y/N leave the bunker to take an evening off and find out that they could be more than just friends. As she takes matters into her own hands by showing Dean her dominant side and what she really wants, things start to get interesting fairly quickly.





	A Queen and her Kinks

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: this is our first chapter of "A Queen and her Kinks"; we hope you enjoy it as much as we did while writing this thing. Please feel free to leave comments, tell us what you think and stay tuned for our upcoming chapters ;)

                                                                        

Heavy bass tunes blared through the huge speakers when he entered the main area of the club. The vibrations went right through his body as Dean’s gaze roamed the room that was filled with sweat-coated bodies moving to the ear-piercing rock music.

He glanced over to Y/N who smiled contentedly in the direction of the crowded dance area, head slightly nodding to the inciting rhythm. The older Winchester brother wasn’t overly excited about the idea of going out that evening.

There had been a lot of stress over the last few weeks in the bunker; exhausting hunts, several minor injuries, hours and hours of mind-numbing research.

That was probably the reason Y/N had suggested going to a club. Get their minds off the monster of the week, leave the shit-ton of books on lore and spells behind and just forget about all the bad things for a few hours.

Why Dean actually agreed to accompany her to this particular club though, he didn’t really know. But now they were here and, after scanning the room for another minute, he finally spotted the bar, eagerly dragging Y/N with him as he tried to make his way through the mass of dancing people.

Fortunately, only one of the several bar stools was occupied and they sat down on the dubiously sticky seats, Dean ordering a glass of whiskey for himself and a cold beer for Y/N.

They’d known each other for several years, had killed myriads of monsters side by side during that time. Hunting was never easy, but with the right partner at least the chances of survival were comparatively high.

The bartender placed their drinks in front of them and Dean immediately downed his whiskey in one big gulp. He gestured to the bored-looking man behind the counter to refill his glass.

“You like the music?” Y/N yelled right into his ear. She leaned in close so he would hear her over the deafening rock song playing on such a high volume that Dean could literally _see_ the beat of the song on the surface of his whiskey.

He gave her an affirmative nod in response; not that it would’ve changed anything about his discomfort anyway, if the music had been any different. Even though he didn't necessarily have anything against it, it just wasn't the _right kind of rock_.

Y/N grabbed his hand and slid off her barstool in one swift motion. He heard something closely resembling a “Come on, let’s dance,” which caused him to almost choke on the last sip of his drink as he vigorously shook his head.

“No thanks, Y/N, I’m- I’ll just stay here,” he tried to get his hand out of her tight grip, “You go and enjoy yourself.”

He was always surprised at how strong the woman was who definitely didn’t look like she could hunt down and kill a rampant rugaru all by herself - nevertheless, that’s exactly how they’d first met. Sam’s research had lead them to the trail of bodies the rugaru had left behind. But when the Winchesters eventually managed to track down the monster and arrived at the latest crime scene, Y/N had already killed it.

“Oh come on, Dean, it’ll be fun,” she leaned close to his face again and shot him a compelling smile. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out. Dean couldn’t help but notice once again how mesmerizing and expressive her eyes were.

He tried to tear his gaze away from her face, pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind. He couldn’t let himself feel this way. Not in their line of business. Not with a woman who clearly wasn’t interested in more than friendship, as she was as scarred for life as the Winchesters themselves.

Dean gulped down his next drink, a vain attempt to gather some courage, before she pulled him down from his seat and towards the dance floor.

Her grip around his hand hadn’t loosened as she rushed them down the few steps that led right into the crowd and onto the parquet that was equally sticky as the bar stools thanks to shattered glass and several spilled liquids, whatever kind those were…

The dancing area was located in the middle of the room and a bit sunken in, flanked by the bar area above, making Dean feel like he’s locked in some kind of cage. An overcrowded cage with dubious-looking dudes and more-naked-than-clothed girls, every one of them covered in sweat and aggressively jumping to the screaming voice that pumped through the speakers.

Y/N’s eyes were hooded, vitreous from the alcohol, as she turned around to face him, offering him a mischievous grin.

Something in her behavior shifted as the first guitar riffs of a new song pulsated through the hall. Dean could literally watch her whole demeanor grow darker, her smirk a lot more poised and her shoulders straightened. He knew this look, he saw it a thousand times before when they worked a case. She was in her predator mode, she was in charge now and there was no way around it.

Dean couldn’t help but stare in awe as he watched her starting to sway her upper body to the fast-paced rhythm, slowly reducing the distance between them by circling him, fixating him with her determined gaze as if he was her prey to hunt down tonight. And damn, how keen he was to be her victim.

“Let’s have some fun tonight, Dean, what do you think?” she rasped right into his ear after she had pulled his head down in an abrupt motion, leaving his scalp prickling as she released his hair out of her firm grip.  
This was a rhetorical question, obviously. And Dean definitely wasn’t the one who got the say in this. Not that he wanted to.

Next thing he felt was her slender fingers interlacing with his, pulling him towards her while she pressed her back flush against his front side.  
  
She had taken control over him and he was more than consent to follow her lead as she slid his hands over her thighs, his fingertips trailing over her fishnet-tights and all the way up her sides. That was already enough to leave his stomach tangling up in knots.  
  
Not to mention the constant grazing of her rear against his pelvis, giving him a hard time to focus on the fact that they came here as just friends.  
  
_Oh, the things he wanted her to do to him…_  
  
She arched her back and locked her arms around his neck to push his head down, so that it was on the same level as her mouth. “When I asked you to dance with me I meant it like I said. So, be a good boy for me and start to move! ” she commanded. The barking undertone making clear that declining wasn’t an option.  
  
Dean wasn’t quite sure how to budge to this kind of music, but an order was an order and he did his best to admit to that.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut as Y/N placed his hands back on her rotating hips, trying to gather all the concentration to follow her lead and mimicking her motions, which wasn’t an easy task considering that she was still streaking his crotch over and over and over again.  
  
And it didn’t get any easier as she grew bolder with every song, not ceasing to guide his hands over every inch of her body, letting him sense her frame, perceive her tensing, yet tender muscles under that mellow AC/DC tank top that adapted smoothly to her torso.  
  
Dean didn’t know how long they were dancing or at whatever point he started to actually like the hammering bass drums or the melodic screaming.  
  
Maybe it happened as their moving together merged into grinding against each other, maybe it happened somewhere between all the pressing and pulling, or around the time everyone was staring at them as their dance got a bit out of hand and turned into more of a make out session.  
  
But in fact it didn’t really matter at all.  
  
All that mattered was that he finally allowed himself to surrender to her in every way possible.  
  
What he did know, however, was that her plump lips were even softer on his brash ones than he ever could’ve imagined and much more claiming than he ever would’ve given her credit for.  
  
And he liked it.  
  
He liked every single rush that pinged through him whenever her teeth sank down in the soft flesh of his lower lip, or when their tongues slipped against each other, causing him to sigh in contentment.  
  
Their breaths turned hotter and heavier with every passing second, leaving them gasping for air as Y/N broke her lips from his for a second.  
  
Breathing heavily, she took his scruffy cheeks between her fingers and her thumb and crashed her lips against his one more time before she pulled back, caressing his stubble until he opened up his eyes, looking right at her.  
  
“Maybe we should take this somewhere more private. I really don’t want to share you with all these people watching. C’mon let’s get out of here.”

_____

The Impala came to a halt in the bunker’s garage and Dean killed the engine. Luckily, the drive home from the club took them hardly fifteen minutes. They made it out of the car and into the empty halls of the huge underground building in no time.  
  
Apparently Sam and a few other hunters were still working a case down in Wichita, and Cas was doing...well, whatever the hell his heavenly duties included.  
  
The end result was the same: there wasn’t even one single person they could’ve met on their way to Y/N’s room.  
  
When they rushed past one of the storage rooms, Y/N suddenly stopped. “You go ahead and wait for me. I’ll just get something real quick,” she said with a wink.  
  
“What could you _possibly_ need out of this room right _now_ ?” he asked with an incredulous look and a raised eyebrow for emphasis.  
  
She drew herself up to her full height, lowered her voice to a rather strict tone and repeated her command, “Just go and wait in my room. You’re not the one to ask questions tonight.” _How could a woman her size even be that intimidating?_  
  
“As you wish, milady,” Dean obeyed and headed towards her room, grinning to himself in excitement.  
  
He opened the door and stepped inside. He’d been here before, but never alone and definitely never feeling the thrill of anticipation he was feeling now.

Dean brought his hands to the top button on his shirt, eagerly starting to undo one by one. The second he slipped out of his red button-up shirt, just about throwing it to the floor, the door behind him flew open and Y/N entered the room, shiny, silver handcuffs dangling from her fingers.

Her eyes slowly wandered from the shirt in his hand along his arm and stopped at his face. She cocked her head to one side and authoritatively pushed her chin forward, her piercing gaze not leaving his eyes for even the fracture of a second.

“What do you think you’re doing there, mister?” she inquires in a demanding voice, “If anyone’s gonna undress you, it’s _me_!” With a loud bang, the door got slammed shut.

Dean looked up at her, insecurity written all over his face. “I just wanted...uhm, I’m sor-”

“Uh-uh,” Y/N cut him short by putting her hand on his mouth, muffling the rest of his futile apology. _Goddammit, that was hot._ He swallowed hard behind her strong fingers.

In a jerky movement Y/N grabbed the shirt from Dean’s hand and, with a flick of her wrist, she tossed it haphazardly on the ground next to them, almost dropping the handcuffs in the process.

With the same hand she grabbed his shoulder and pushed him against the wall. The sharp metal of the cuffs pressed unpleasantly into his skin, while her other hand was still covering his lips. Her face mere inches away from his own.

Dean’s mind was racing; the last thing he’d expected to happen that day was for him and Y/N to end up in her room. He hadn’t expected to be pinned to the wall by her vigorous arms, ending up trapped between cold stone on his back and a heat-emanating female body on his front.

And he _definitely_ hadn’t expected her to-

A wet kiss right below his ear followed by a tender bite tore him from his thoughts. His eyes closed in the same instant he let out a sharp breath through his nose, accompanied by a surprised groan.

Dean opened his eyes again when Y/N’s mouth left his neck all of a sudden. She was lowering at him in a way that made him shudder internally.

“Don’t make a sound!” she hissed into his face, pressing her hand harder onto his mouth to accentuate her command. “No talking,” a growl into his left ear, “No moaning,” into his right ear as she forced his head to the other side by his chin.

Her eyes appeared in front of his own again, “You got all that?”

Dean knew this was a test, he wasn’t stupid.

He couldn’t nod, for her grip on his chin hadn’t loosened in the slightest; he couldn’t use his voice either, as this was what she’d explicitly forbidden him to do.

What he could do though, was to take a deep breath and look right into her eyes. He slowly squeezed his eyes shut, kept them closed for a measured moment and swallowed dryly. He opened his eyes to see how Y/N’s mouth formed a barely-there-smile, showing him she understood and accepted this as his assent.

She let her hand slide off his mouth, her index finger slightly pulling at his lower lip before she dragged her fingernails along the pulsating vein on the side of his neck. Dean knew this was the next test; and he was willing to bite down on his lip until it would tear blood if only that meant she would keep doing things to him he’d never dared even dream of.

Dean felt her mouth below his ear again, felt her lips smiling against his skin, felt how she placed wet kiss after wet kiss onto his neck. He closed his eyes again. Let his head lean back against the wall behind him.

Y/N’s teeth scraped across his throat as she worked her way to the other side of his neck, gently biting down into his skin every few inches.

Dean pressed his jaw shut forcefully, grit his teeth, swallowed again. The hand that still pinned his arm against the wall tightened its grip for a brief moment, then wandered down to his ribs where it pushed his upper body against the cold, hard stone.

Her sharp hip bone drilled into his outer thigh, one of her legs made its way between his, brushing against the slowly growing bulge in his pants.

Dean heard a light clink before he felt icy metal enveloping his wrist, a harsh rasping noise when the cuff clicked into place. He turned his head towards his own hand, a slightly nervous smile in response to her wolfish grin.

She wrenched at his arm as she pulled on the chain to lead him towards the bed in the middle of her room. Almost as if they were dancing again, she spun Dean around with another jolt of the chain, the back of his knees hitting the edge of the mattress.

Their eyes met again for a brief moment, her lecherous gaze making his heart jump in excitement. Y/N lifted one of her knees to his thigh, let go of the handcuffs and brought both her hands to his chest in one swift motion before she energetically pushed him down.

Dean’s back met the mattress with a thud.

The predatory woman was hovering over his body in an instant, clutched at the handcuffs and wrapped them around one of the rods of her headboard before she reached for his other wrist.

She sat back on her heels to straddle his lap, a contented smile adorning her beautiful face. Dean mirrored her expression with hooded eyes and licked over his bottom lip. He moved his legs a bit, trying to make her bow down for a kiss.

Y/N immediately stopped dragging her fingers across his chest and shot him a threatening look.

“Deeean,” she menaced him and pinched her nails painfully into his skin through the t-shirt. “Don’t make me tie your feet to the bedposts, too! You don’t want me to get angry, do you?” she asked in a low voice.

He bit down on the insides of his cheeks to avoid a smile and shook his head.

“That’s what I thought,” she growled right into his ear and alleviated the pressure of her fingers when he lowered his legs back onto the mattress.

She let her hands skim over his stomach, trailed her fingertips teasingly along the hem of his shirt until she finally touched the skin above his waistband. Dean felt warm palms wandering up his torso, slowly shoving up the thin fabric in the process.

The t-shirt got crumpled up around his shoulders and she carefully wrapped the grey piece of cloth around his head, depriving him of one his senses.

An uneasy feeling of insecurity came over Dean, now that he was completely and utterly at Y/N’s mercy. He had to fight off the urge to rip the shirt off his face and take over the the situation, but he wanted to show her that he trusted her to take care of him, that he was willing to give up all control.

Dean couldn’t see anything but the vague silhouette of her body against the dim light of the room. He had to rely solely on his tactile sense and his hearing, which wasn’t something he was used, nor particularly eager to do. He did trust her, however, and holding still was the only way of showing her.

He bit back his fear and worry, tried to push the negative and unsettling thoughts to the back of his mind. He wanted to enjoy this. And he wanted to make her happy.

Sharp fingernails dragging along his neck brought him back to reality. Dean focused on the pleasant pain that slowly moved across his chest, down his belly, lingering at the hem of his boxer briefs for several seconds, only to meander towards his ribs again.

The weight of Y/N on his thighs kept him grounded. Her slender fingers prevented him from disintegrating into thin air as he was in danger of getting lost in the sensory overstimulation of his light-headed state.

Dean flinched only a little when a whiff of fiery breath reached one of his hard nipples, hovering over it only a few inches. He felt her mouth ghosting painstakingly slow towards the other bud, once again wafting above his sensitive skin in perpetuum.

With the loss of his sense of vision he also lost all sense of time.

He flinched again when she sat up and left his nipple exposed to cold air, glad she couldn’t see his disappointed face behind his makeshift blindfold.

The disappointment changed immediately into excitement when Y/N brought her fingers to the waistband of Dean’s jeans, opened the button and slowly pulled down the zipper, dragging her knuckles faintly over his bulge.

His breath hitched against the fabric over his mouth and nose, but he managed to keep his gasp quiet enough.

Y/N scooted down from his thighs, placed her knees next to his, took hold of his pants and pulled them down to his shoes. She shuffled them off his feet, his socks following right after.

The two loud thumps of Dean’s heavy boots hitting the hard ground made him cringe for the split of a second.

She hopped off the bed and Dean heard his pants falling down to the floor.

Her movements were skillful and precise, nonetheless gentle and cautious. The exact same way she was during hunts. Dean knew he could count on her having his back at all times. She always seemed confident in what she did, never needing to think twice, never taking chances. She was a determined woman. Smart. Strong. Impressive by all accounts.

Y/N must’ve removed her own shoes as well, as he heard her nimble feet tiptoeing around the bed and pausing precariously close to his head.

She checked on the handcuffs by jiggling the chain. “We don’t want you to get away by mistake, do we? Gonna take real good care of you, babe,” she breathed against the fabric of his shirt, right into his ear.

Dean felt a shiver running down his spine. Then the hazy shadow of her head disappeared again, the t-shirt over his face cooling down in an instant.

He pressed his eyes shut and tried to block out everything but his hearing. A rustling sound, light cloth falling to the floor. That meant her jeans shirt was probably gone. Another rustle, her AC/DC shirt following right after.

He gulped back a groan.

The mattress dipped slightly when she sat down on the lower end of the bed. For what felt like half an eternity he couldn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Couldn’t sense a single motion of Y/N.

Feather-light fingers brushing over his ankles startled him all at once. They slowly wandered, _floated_ across his calves and up to his thighs. The touch of her fingertips on his skin barely even there.

Dean’s whole body was prickling, quivering, _vibrating_ in anticipation. He had to bite down on his lower lip to stifle his moan, he wanted to show Y/N how much he trusted her, didn’t want to disappoint her by accidentally making a sound. He did trust her, despite the nervousness seething in his stomach telling him otherwise.

Giving up control wasn’t an easy thing to do. Dean was used to being the one to make decisions, to taking care of his loved ones, to carrying all responsibility at all times. Lying on a bed, naked bar his boxer briefs, being tied at the wrists, not able, _not allowed_ to move or talk was eminently against his nature. His mind was screaming.

Feather-light fingers reached his chest. Feather-light fingers turned into smooth warm palms, pressing down gently when Y/N propped herself on her arms and straddled Dean’s lap once more.

The panic screaming voice in his head softened, faded to a silent whimper. He was astonished at how easily Y/N could bring him back to the ground again. Her weight giving him a sense of secureness, of reassurance.

The warm hands slithered from his chest down to the waistband of his boxer briefs, reverted below his navel, stroked over his ribs, brushed over his hard nipples, went up to his arms.

Sharp fingernails joined the warm palms and sank into the tense muscles in Dean’s bicep as Y/N tightened her grip around them.

Dean felt his muscles contract under her grasp, the biting pain of her nails piercing his skin.

“Shhh, baby, relax… I got you. Just let go. Let me do this for you.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, her hot breath ghosting right above his pulse point before she planted a tender, wet kiss on his neck. He could feel her nose brushing over the edge of his shirt where it still covered his face.

Dean inhaled deeply, tried to release the tension out of his body, unbend his muscles.

Teeth started scraping along the vein of his neck, bit down gently on his collar bone. He took another deep breath, exhaled.

“Mmh attaboy, there you are,” Y/N mumbled against his skin, sending soft vibrations through his body, when he finally let go.

She was still holding onto his arms while she slowly left small red marks across his chest, biting down every few inches, sucking bruise after bruise, claiming him hers.

Dean’s mind grew more and more fuzzy with the aching desire coursing through his veins.

Y/N’s pace still agonizingly slow, her lips soft and soothing, her tongue flicking playfully, tickling his sensitive, goose bump covered skin.

His shallow breathing quickened, hitched once again when she finally found her way to one of his neglected nipples again, teasingly capturing it between her teeth.

Dean’s by now rock-hard cock was frustratingly trapped under the thin fabric of his boxers and pressed against Y/N’s thigh as she slightly shifted to pay his other nipple the same attention as the first one.

He could feel her lips curling into a smile, her nose meeting the skin on his chest, her pleased humming making it inexpressibly difficult to not give in to the urge of letting out his suppressed moans.

All of a sudden the wet heat around his nipple was gone, leaving it exposed to cold air once again as Y/N leaned back.

Dean heard a short snapping sound, followed by a quiet clank when the wires in her bra hit the ground. Her hands were back on his upper arms in an instant.

All he wanted was to touch her, feel her, be closer to her. She was taking her sweet time as she trailed her fingers down over the inside of his elbows, sliding all the way down his upper body, aiming for the hem of his boxer briefs once again.

Although he was blindfolded with his own shirt, he knew that this one special grin decorated her face when she hooked her digits into his last remaining piece of clothing. It was the smug one she always wore right before she curled her index around the trigger to slay her prey.

Tonight, however, he was her prey, and even though it took all of his strength to silence his basic instinct, he’d make sure to be bagged by her this one time.

But she didn’t pull the trigger right away. No.

Instead, she dragged the thin fabric down, little by little, trapping his cock with it, while she planted wet kisses along his abdominal muscles.

The tiny hair leading down from his navel stood up as Y/N hovered above his groin, making him wait a bit longer and electrifying every single one of Deans’ nerves, sending his senses closer and closer to the edge with her sheer presence, making his cock twitch in anticipation with her hot breath leaking through the cotton.

His lungs caught fire due to the lack of oxygen they suffered since he’d started to hold his breath as soon as Y/N towed his briefs further down. Exposing him inch by inch, she brushed her nose over his delicate skin ever so slightly, until she finally pulled the fabric down entirely, letting his impressive, stone-hard length spring free at last.

Dean bit back another moan, his breath hitched at the new and long anticipated sensation, causing the flames in his chest to light up even more.

Uneasiness crept through him, as he was lying there in front of her, bare ass naked, robbed of any control. He’d never felt so vulnerable.

But he knew he couldn’t do a thing about it, _hell_ , he didn’t even want to. Y/N was in control and he knew he could trust her with his life. He’d already done that a hundred times before.

And finally, he let down all his guards that were left. Finally, she had pulled the trigger. Finally, she had hunted him down.

A single click of her tongue accompanied by a satisfied “Jackpot” filled his ears, right before she wrapped her palm around his shaft and bowed down to lick the precum off of the head of his cock, her wet tongue encasing his tip, almost driving him out of his mind.

“Mmhm, just like I imagined,” she hummed contentedly.

Her warm, velvety mouth was the only thing Dean was aware of at this moment, as she took him in, inch by inch, pinning his hips down on the mattress with her hands. He rolled them forward to meet her half way, her nails almost painfully pressing into his skin again, when he couldn’t help but squirm beneath her.

He drew his lower lip between his teeth, biting down a bit to distract himself from the compelling stimulation that was almost too much to bear already.

With a quiet pop she removed his length from her mouth way too soon, a sound of protest forming in his throat, but he remembered to stay silent before it could be heard.

Dean craned his neck a bit, trying to see what she was doing through the damn shirt. Without success, needless to say.

The moment she sat back down, he felt her damp core gliding over his thigh, as she leaned  over his body once again, causing him to throw his head back into the pillow.

Heat radiated off her breasts, igniting a new fire as her bare skin was on his chest, sending shivers down his spine when she licked a wet stripe from his navel all the way up to his chin.

Reaching the collar of the t-shirt, she carefully shoved it up, just far enough to free his lips, already swollen from his gnawing, still denying him to lay eyes on her.

Y/Ns lips brushed over his ever so slightly at first, but she was quick to pick up the pace, licking into his eager mouth as he parted it voluntarily, their tongues rocking and grinding against each other just as their hips did back at the club earlier that night.

This time Dean couldn’t stop himself from letting out a deep moan, rather resembling a hungry, predatory growl.

_Goddammit. That was against her rules._

He stopped dead for a second, angry at himself for having displeased her. To his surprise he could feel Y/N’s lips form into a smile against his lips, her tongue thoroughly licking into his mouth again.

Dean was relieved. Thus, he tried to push further, “Please, I wanna see you.” _God, when did he start sounding so pathetic?_ He regretted his shaky, hoarse sounding request immediately, when he felt a harsh and punitive bite into his lower lip that held until he whimpered.

Within a fraction of a second Y/N’s teeth let go of his lip, her face leaving his. He tried to chase after her - to no avail.

“Not yet, baby. I’m not done with you.” Her thumb stroked over his lower lip, easing the throbbing pain where she’d left her bite marks.

The bed dipped when she scooted down once more. A sudden grip around the base of his cock made him gasp for air. The wet, burning heat of her mouth surrounded him again, sucking him deep into her throat until her lips met her digits around his base. In a rash, uncontrolled movement he arched his back, bucked up his hips and... _made her gag_.

_Oh shit. Shitshitshitshitshit._

The pleasant heat left his cock in an instant - the tight grip around his cock, however, stayed the same.

“Did I allow you to do that?” she asked with a threatening undertone, emphasizing her exhortation with a painful squeeze of her hand, “Because I can’t remember doing that.”

Dean tried to avoid crying out in pain. “‘m sorry, Y/N,” he apologized hastily through his gritted teeth and in between pants, “Won’t happen again. I promise!”

“Now, that’s my man.” The wanton woman hummed as she took him in again, started working a slow, adept rhythm up and down his throbbing length.

After only a few minutes Dean’s breathing picked up even more speed as he felt his orgasm building up in his lower belly, air leaving his mouth in erratic gasps.

“Nggh, Y/N, I’m-” he moaned into the fabric of his t-shirt. Sometime during the last couple minutes it had slid down his face again, muffling his pleased groaning not one iota. He swallowed loudly, “‘m close.”

Y/N stilled in her movements, leaving Dean a sweaty, heaving, panting mess, melting into the rumpled bed sheets.

“Not yet, baby, not yet,” she teased and Dean could literally _hear_ her smug, wolfish smile.

The next groan Dean emitted was more of a frustrated whimper. The headboard rattled noisily when he constricted the muscles in his arms, forcefully tearing at the handcuffs.

She placed a sloppy kiss next to his navel.

“Soon, baby.” A whiff against his skin.

Dean wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with her stalling him like that. She kept him constantly on edge, anticipation almost unbearable by now.

She had him right where she wanted him to be. _Needed_ him to be.

Once again she climbed over his crotch. In a well-aimed motion she rocked against his aching length, rubbing the drenched fabric of her panties against his cock with every roll of her hips. She shoved up his shirt again. Her teeth nibbling on his stubbled jaw, trailing down his neck, her soothing hands roaming over his body.

The biting, scraping, _licking_ , **scratching** , **_kissing_ **was driving him crazy. He couldn’t keep the moans in his throat, didn’t even try anymore.

Dean heard Y/N’s breathing quicken as she increased her rhythm. Faster and faster grinding her clit against his sensitive tip through her soaked underwear.

Nevertheless, her pace was controlled, determined. She knew exactly how far her man was gone, how little it would take him to reach his peak. And she kept both of them just below their breaking point.

He felt the arousal coiling up in his stomach, mingling with the ongoing anticipation and all the suppressed feelings for her he was in denial about for so long, eventually endorsing them now.

A new wave of desire to see her, touch her, hold onto her crashed through him.

Dean couldn’t help but yank the cuffs once more.

That was when she peeled herself back from him again “No, Y/N, I’m sorry, please I – I _need_ you,” he begged but instead of an answer he just heard her deep inhales and sharp exhales, sensing her jerking of her drenched panties and throwing them from off the bed to join the pile of clothes already on the floor.

“Need or want, Dean?” she allured, while she climbed over his sweat-damp body, straddling him again, the certainty that there wasn’t any piece of fabric between them anymore drove him crazy.

With one precise motion she took hold of his cock and guided him towards her dripping wet entrance, her delighted moan clouding his mind as she impaled herself on him.

This time though, he allowed himself to arch his back and meet the roll of her hips with his own, disobeying her all but forgotten rules by letting out his satisfied moans as her slick, warm walls sank down on him over and over again, bringing them both dangerously close to the edge.

The rotations of Y/N’s hips caused Dean to see stars behind his eyelids, electric shivers tingled at every nerve ending in his body as she finally, finally pulled down his t-shirt down from his face, enabling him to see her. And damn, he never laid eyes on someone more beautiful than her.

He felt that sweet spot deep inside her, hitting it with every thrust and it cost him all of his convergence not to come as they locked eyes, burning into each other, while she clenched around him, chasing her own orgasm before she came hard, accompanied by a moan he’d kill for to hear again, dragging him right over the edge with her.

Panting heavily, Y/N collapsed onto his chest, her lips meeting his for a lazy kiss, both grinning against each other’s face.

Rolling off, she laid down next to him, her head on his shoulder, making herself comfortable.

“Uhm…not to sound ungrateful or anything but – would you mind?” Dean snickered and nodded his head towards his arms that were still tied to the headboard of the bed.

A bashful snort escaped her throat, another sound he’d do anything for to hear again.

His green orbs followed every move of her while she stood up to free his hands from the fetters.

All along the way she giggled, clearly coming down from her hunters-high, the stern dominance slowly disappearing from her face.

As the restrains untightened, he rubbed his wrists, smiling as the realization sunk in, that those red marks would still be visible for the next few days. A pleasing memory of this night.

Without a second thought, he reached for Y/N’s hand, pulling her back down to the bed and into his arms “Thank you, Y/N, that was…” he stopped, licking his lips as he searched for the right word.

“Yeah, that was… _something_ ” she completed his statement as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck and scattered faint pecks over the sensitive skin below his ear.

If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought that there was a shy undertone audible in her voice.

His mouth curved into a smug grin, tilting his head so that he could place a gentle kiss on her forehead “Something we should’ve done ages ago if you ask me,” he told her, back at his  accustomed confidence, cupping her face with one of his large hands, stroking her rosy cheek with his thumb, their noses bumping against each other as he gently guided her mouth to his own.

This time the kiss was slow and tender, way more intimate. He felt her melting into the kiss, as the hunger that was devouring her before was stilled, she got her prey, her hunt was over.  
  
They fell silent for a while, being caught up in their own thoughts, while Dean took in the sight of his huntress, retracing the many lines of ink that were covering her body, each of them holding a chapter of her life in readiness.  
  
He knew that she was tattooed, he had seen the ones on her arms many times, but apparently she kept a good amount of them to herself and after his recent experience he knew that she had the three wolves on her side for a reason.  
  
Dean thought about how comfortable he feels around her, how secure he felt as he let down his walls for her and how overwhelming it was to trust someone so much that he was able to give up control and allow her to take care of him, even if it was hard to do so.  
  
At last, exhaustion took over and they drifted off to a deep, restful sleep, safe in each other’s arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is created for the @spnkinkbingo and fills the sub!Dean square.


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